


The search for our Happily Ever After

by craploadsofawesome



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Romance, kingdoms and clans au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-04-14
Packaged: 2018-05-29 00:13:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6351163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/craploadsofawesome/pseuds/craploadsofawesome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke always had a way of derailing all of her plans, even when they were small children, playing with Bellamy and Anya under Indra’s watchful eye. Always knew how to mess up everything, as though she knew she could get away with it if she just flashed her beautiful sky-blue eyes, and that perfect smile, which even when they were kids, could reduce her to a mass of speechless adoration. Could fluster her so hard, all she could do was watch on as she charmed every adult in the vicinity.<br/>This is the story of how Clarke Griffin found that things may change as time passes, but people, they essentially remain the same. Fools in love<br/>OR<br/>The story of how Lexa grows up in her love for the girl she used to call the sky princess when they were kids.<br/>OR<br/>The story of how Raven Reyes discovers that love may be a hard battle to win, but it's worth it in the end<br/>OR<br/>The story of how Octavia Blake discovers a different kind of freedom in her world that came from loving somebody.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**CLARKE**

Clarke knows she is being unreasonable. She knows she needs to get out of the leather pants she wears when she is practicing her fighting techniques, and get into a long flowy ballroom gown that she absolutely detests but which makes her mom burst out in a cry of “Oh, honey, you look every bit the princess that you are!” She is aware that it is way past time for her to sit in the ridiculously uncomfortable chair in front of the mirror and let the ladies-in-waiting spend hours scrubbing all the dirt from her face and ooh and aah somewhere along the lines of what beautiful hair you have, Princess and why in the world do you want to keep it tied up all the time. She definitely knows that there is no way of getting out of this torture they have decided to call ‘A gathering of the clans’.

But, she thinks, as she wheels her horse through a sharp turn, kicking up a cloud of dust in her wake, they really should know that she doesn’t care.

This is what she hates about being a Chancellor’s daughter. The endless parties, gatherings and functions, and her mother’s demands that she attend them all and be social and outgoing. Sure, it has its perks. The best of delicacies delivered to her table, the most comfortable house ever, and plumbing, but there are times she just wants to run away with a handful of clothes, her horse Jaha and live in the woods, hunting and feeding from day to day. Construct a cottage somewhere secluded, and run off there, far from the mass of people who look up to her as their leader already, treat with the kind of respect that makes her uncomfortable and are ready to lay down their lives for her at a single gesture.

(And call her Princess, which she absolutely hates. Could there possibly be a word softer, and more reminiscent of a girl prancing around in a dress and going really girly stuff like painting her nails, and sewing and talking to birds, than Princess? She would have been fine with Savior. Or The Legendary Clarke. Or The Lost Hero of Our Generation, which she totally didn’t try to make the helpers call her a year ago.)

It may be crowded in Arkadia but out here in the woods, there is nothing to disturb her. Just a whole lot of peace and quiet. There is just the comforting gurgle of water from the river flowing nearby, the constant chirping of birds and the tap-tapping sound from beneath Jaha’s hooves as he trots through the worn path. The sun is shining rather brightly for just ten in the morning but under the canopy of unending trees which shades her, everything seems hazy and the heat feels too far away to bother her. She lets Jaha lead her on the way, and just keeps her hands on the reins, planning on doing nothing but riding lazily.

The sound of leaves rustling from somewhere breaks her out of her reverie, and she tightens her hold briefly to make Jaha stop. She dismounts, and takes a tentative step forward.

“Hello,” she calls out “Anyone there?”

She looks around and stands there, on her guard, just in case. After a while of complete silence, when she finally decides that it must have been a small animal which made the sound, someone bursts out from the bushes and startles her so hard she almost falls over.

It is a young girl, not much older than her. Clarke is distracted by the sword gleaming in her hand, not quite raised but ready for defense, and her Grounder garb. Then she takes a good look at her, and promptly loses her train of thought.

The girl is stunning. There are not enough words in the world to express how perfectly her features have been shaped, how well her straight nose complements the cut of her jaw and her clearly defined cheekbones. Her hair is pulled up in an intricate bundle of Grounder braids, to keep them out of her eyes most probably, and that is the reason Clarke cannot help but gape at her, because that leaves her eyes unobstructed from view, and holy crap, they are mind-blankingly wonderful. The girl’s eyes are a gorgeous shade of green, clear and pure, and then she notices that they are kind of narrowed and squinting, and they are probably squinting at her, but why would they be………

Then she realizes that when the girl came out of hiding so suddenly, she alarmed Clarke into reverting back to the most basic form of self-defense that could be done without a gun or her bow and arrow – Kung Fu style. That while she had been staring at the girl, the girl had in fact been staring, in turn at her half-heartedly raised fists, and her almost done but not quite properly stance. That all this time she had been holding this stupid pose.

Clarke takes in the scene, this Grounder girl contemplating her as though she were some kind of crazy woman, Jaha sorrowfully looking at her as though he cannot personally believe that his owner could be this ridiculous, and slowly drops her hands, all the while keeping her eyes on what is probably the best-looking girl to wander this earth.

Then the girl opens her mouth, and ruins everything.

“Were you really planning to defend yourself like that?” she asks, arching a brow, and Clarke finds out that no, the girl’s voice was nothing like what she had imagined in her head, it was way better “Because I cannot imagine that such an absurd defensive stance could have helped.”

Clarke scowls at her, compelled to explain “That was Bruce Lee, for your information. Those moves would totally have worked against you.”

“Against me, maybe, but not against my sword. Or are you saying that your nails extend to longer and sharper proportions when faced with an enemy?”

The girl is definitely making fun of her, Clarke decides, but it doesn’t show in her face which is completely devoid of good-humor.

“Do you generally make a habit of ridiculing people you nothing about? I could be the ruler of a far-off land with the resources to defeat the Coalition.”

“And I could be the Commander of said Coalition,” the girl retorts, waving a hand, and along with it, Clarke’s imaginary far-off land with huge resources, away.

“Ha,” she laughs “You couldn’t be Lexa. She was a little whiny kid, who cried when she fell down. Couldn’t take a joke to save her life. You know, it astounds me how she ever became Commander. I mean, they should have chosen someone more bad-ass…….”

The girl glares at her, and Clarke faintly feels like she has seen that expression, in another time, maybe in another life, but she chooses to ignore it.

“You don’t know our _Heda_ ,” the girl says, offended.

“Like hell I don’t,” Clarke replies “I played with her when we were kids. Till she had to leave for training.”

“Training which changed her! Training that hardened her, a life so tough she had no time to cry, to rest, to live. And you stand here saying…….”

“You sound like you’re a friend,” Clarke says, interested.

“I know her. I was…………..an initiate who trained alongside her.”

“Who _are_ you?”

“Alexandria,” she replies.

**LEXA**

Hunting is an integral part of life. She knows that, but it doesn’t stop her from mourning the loss of every animal, whether they are small or big, that dies at her hand. She has been doing this for about ten years now, ever since she killed a fearsome tiger when she was eight, and every time she kills a living being, she kneels down and begs for forgiveness from whoever created them. Titus insists on her doing it regularly, though. Says it would create an image of a courageous and strong _Heda_ in her people’s minds. Lists all the ways in which small things she may or may not do could affect the state of the Coalition. Lexa knows better than to dispute his opinions, knows that one back answer from her could provoke a two-hour lecture on bravery, integrity, and all that makes one a capable _Heda._ Which is how she finds herself going off to the woods in search of prey, on the morning of the gathering of the clans, having promised Titus she’d bring back something.

And severely annoyed, when a sudden sound of horse hooves startles the deer into running off (A part of her rejoices, now she isn’t responsible for the failure to bring back prey, there is someone else she can blame). So she decides to investigate, and slowly approaches the path.

It’s her. She supposes she should have known _._ Clarke always had a way of derailing all of her plans, even when they were small children, playing with Bellamy and Anya under Indra’s watchful eye. Always knew how to mess up everything, as though she knew she could get away with it if she just flashed her beautiful sky-blue eyes, and that perfect smile, which even when they were kids, could reduce her to a mass of speechless adoration. Could fluster her so hard, all she could do was watch on as she charmed every adult in the vicinity.

She is beautiful. All grown up now, with golden hair just barely kept out of her eyes, and her perfect nose, lips and cheekbones adorning her even more perfect face (if there even could be such a thing), as though the Creator took their time sculpting her, maybe even forever, because surely even eternity could not be enough to construct such a beautiful specimen of the human race. Forever was too small a time to mix enough colors to achieve the absolutely accurate color of the sky, and paint it in her eyes. Too miniscule a while to ignite the fierce flame she can see burning in the way she carries herself.

Time hadn’t changed a lot. Not the color of her eyes, not the way Lexa always felt around her, like she was treading on a poorly tied tightrope that might, at any time, break off, and leave her careening into the unknown. And apparently, not the unfortunate habit Lexa had always had of saying stupid things where Clarke was concerned. So she sees everything as though from somewhere else, watches as she says all the wrong things, and angers Clarke. To make it worse, the other girl doesn’t even remember her, and when the time comes to introduce herself, she gives her real name that she is sure Clarke wouldn’t recognize for what it really is, the longer version of the name she grew up calling her.

“So, Alexandria,” Clarke asks her, one hand on her horse, other resting in her pocket “What’s your commander like?”

“What do you mean, what’s she like?” Lexa feels flustered, not used to deception of such magnitudes “She’s brave, worthy….”

“Nah, not like that,” Clarke cuts her off “Give me the real story on her. Does she still consume more water than food at lunchtime? Still has that weird ritual of doing the rain dance during the first shower of the season? Is her favorite color still blue? Can she………..”

There is a warm feeling in Lexa’s heart, brought on by her knowledge of the fact that Clarke remembers all that about her.

“You remember her,” she states, casually.

“Of course I do,” Clarke says it like it should be obvious “Kind of an adorable idiot, your _Heda_ was. Don’t forget those too often. So, is she still the same?”

“Maybe you should ask her yourself. At the gathering,” she clarifies, and then, suddenly remembering that she had to be there early or Titus would give a huge speech on punctuality, starts walking away.

“Will you be there?” Clarke asks, from behind her.

“Yes,” she replies, and hastens her pace.

All through the getting ready part of the afternoon, she thinks of the girl she met after so many years. She thinks of her hair, as the women are preparing hers in elaborate braids. Wonders if Clarke’s skin is as soft as it looks, as she applies black war paint on her own face. Weighs the possibility of Clarke being a fighter as she puts on her battle armour. The memories of this morning keep replaying through her mind, as she meets the ambassadors and delegates.

In  fact, it may be safe to say that she thinks little of anything else till the man in her guard announces the entry of the Skaikru council into her tent. She sees Marcus Kane, Thelonious Jaha, along with Abigail Griffin, who smiles at her, and is obviously remembering the little girl she used to be, years ago, before her eyes go to the figure trailing disinterestedly behind them. Clarke obviously hates the dress she is in, if the way she tugs at the material is indication enough, and it takes her back to their shared childhood, when Abigail would dress Clarke in something, and the girl would inevitably tear it or muddy it so much, it would be indistinguishable from the color of the ground they played on. She smiles in fond recollection, and that is the exact moment Clarke looks up, and their eyes meet.

“Clarke Griffin of the Sky people,” she says, savoring the name on her tongue “I welcome you to the festivities of the Coalition.”

Clarke’s jaw falls open. It appears that, for the first time in their lives, Lexa has managed to render Clarke incapable of speech instead of the other way round.

**RAVEN**

She loves Clarke, she really does.

Like, so, _so_ , much

Normally, Raven wouldn’t be part of the delegation travelling to the gathering, because a mechanic isn’t as important as, say, a medic and a chancellor. But Clarke pulled some strings, talked to the Council members about letting certain members of the general public attend royal functions and how it could benefit their public image and shit like that, and boom, she was part of the team travelling in the carriage to the royalest, coolest party ever.

There were so many things to see in Polis. The city was, of course, aesthetically pleasing, and beautifully constructed and all the other big words that Dr. Griffin pointed out to them as they took a brief tour, but it wasn’t just the old as hell buildings that were cool, it was what she could find in them. Old parts of machines, screw drivers, hammers, steel and aluminum sheets she could scrounge up and twist into wires…….the possibilities were endlessly endless. There were so many wonderful things here.

Starting with the girl looking at the necklaces on display in the market.

Raven has seen a lot of good-looking people in her life. There are a lot of stunning girls she’s discovered herself around, and a lot of cute guys she’s dated in her life. Her love life (or fun life, more like) has no shortage of all-around hotness. So it surprises her when she sees this girl, and realizes she’s having trouble looking away.

She tries to analyze her appeal. Sure, she looks nice (and that might possibly be the most understatement _y_ understatement of the year, because nice isn’t nearly a good enough term to describe this girl with her hair ties in numerous braids, her tanned skin and her sharp features which still contain a kind of innocent softness), but that isn’t what draws Raven in. It is the wondrous, awestruck expression on her face, the almost childish excitement that she can feel emanating from her even from a distance. She looks like she is taking in the world around her in for the first time, and it is so refreshing that Raven kind of just wants to keep watching. So she keeps out of sight, and, feeling increasingly like a crazy stalker, follows the girl from shop to shop. She sees her eyes light up at the sight of the brightly dyed clothes, try on the earrings, and observe the people with a child’s wonder. Her happiness is so infectious that she leaves everyone in the vicinity smiling, long after she’s gone. Raven smiles, glad to just have the opportunity to see this.

Or, she would have, if Clarke hadn’t burst out of nowhere and dragged her to the nearest corner, babbling about something woods, and Lexa and commander. She turns her head, looks everywhere, but by that time, the girl is gone.

She hates Clarke, she really does.

Like, so, _so,_ much.

“You made me lose her!” she accuses, as though Clarke had just made her lose sight of a suspect in the most high-profile murder case in an Agatha Christie novel.

“Lose who?”

“Um…….someone.”

“Whatever, that doesn’t matter. Remember the Grounder girl I told you about? The one I met this morning and whined about Lexa to?”

“The really gorgeous one who was annoying as hell?” Raven tries to keep track of the conversation, all the while wondering where the girl could have wandered off to “Yeah, so?”

“That was Lexa!”

This makes her pay attention “What? Seriously”

“Yeah,” Clarke rubs the back of her neck sheepishly.

“Wow,” Raven says “You have really horrible game, don’t you, Griffin?”

“Shut up! I wasn’t trying to put the moves on anyone. Besides, it’s Lexa. That would be weird.”

“Why?”

Clarke hesitates “Just because. Also, because she’s really rude. And kind of an asshole.”

She sighs, and slaps her friend on the back “Whatever, Clarke. Now that your incredibly urgent tale of mortification is over, may I please go back to stalking this girl I saw earlier? By the way, that wasn’t a question.”

“But I need……”

“Not a question, Griffin.”

Clarke’s shoulders slump in defeat “Okay, bye.”

She leaves Clarke behind, and wanders slowly around the marketplace, looking for the girl who seems to have disappeared into thin air. She does a slow 360 degrees, keeping her eyes peeled for her, and all of a sudden she sees a flash of movement going towards the river. So she follows slowly, dragging her bad leg along.

Raven finds her sitting on a rock next to the flowing water, engaged in a staring match with a squirrel. The girl has her hand extended, but is otherwise very still, waiting for the timid creature to make a move. All Raven has to do is stay very still, till the squirrel either decides to run away or approach the girl, and then come out of hiding and introduce herself. It’s all very simple.

 So of course she messes it up.

Stumbling over the smallest pebble ever, her bad leg hooks on a low-lying branch and she crashes through the trees, finally coming to a stop a few meters away from where the girl is perched. The squirrel scampers away, and Raven does a mental face-palm at her extreme lack of finesse. She drags herself up groaning at a stab of pain through her leg, dusts her jeans off, looks at the girl, and then almost falls over again.

Yes, her eyes are exactly that beautiful. Stumbling, crashing and falling-over worthy.

“You couldn’t have followed me a little more quietly,” she says, a hint of irritation coloring her tone.

“I……….sorry?” Raven fumbles with her apology.

“You should be”.

“Hey, it’s just a squirrel. I can catch one for you if you want.”

“No, don’t!” bursts out of her abruptly, and Raven startles a bit at her obvious distress “Don’t…….trap it.”

“Okay, okay, no trapping anyone here.”

The girl relaxes a little, and Raven gives her a wide smile, then speaks again “So, I’d like you to know that I deeply regret my impulsive actions that caused your squirrel to run away, and that I’d very much like to formally apologize to you” the girl keeps staring at her, and that causes her to falter a bit “Which is kind of why, I need your name. To, you know, apologize.”

“I……” she starts, then looking around, realizes how close to sunset it is “I’m late.”

Before she can shut herself up a “Hi, Late, I’m Raven” comes out of her mouth and she turns red at the horrible joke. The girl smiles, though and the sight is so beautiful Raven gets lost for a while, and doesn’t realize that she has been moving away till she is at the edge of the clearing.

“I really have to go,” she says “My brother will be looking for me.”

“At least tell me your name,” Raven calls out, staring at her retreating back now.

The girl stops for a second and turns around “Octavia” she says, before she is off once more, and out of sight.

Octavia, Raven says aloud, slowly, and smiles.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**OCTAVIA**

The world looks different on the outside.

This is her first gathering, and even a year after her release from captivity, it still comes as a surprise to her how beautiful everything seems. The huge crowds of people milling about, talking to each other, the bright colors, the atmosphere, it’s almost too much for her to handle. The sights, the sounds, the smells. She takes it all in, determined to not let anything pass her by unappreciated. So she walks with a permanent smile on her face, talks to people, and revels in the excitement of the festival.

It’s when she appreciating some accessories, that she feels someone staring at her. Having developed a sixth sense for when people are nearby, she is immediately aware of her surroundings when the hair at the back of her head stands up. Under the pretext of examining her face in a small mirror, she flips open its lid, and trains its view right behind her. Who was this elusive person that was………

Aha! There she was.

Surreptitiously adjusting the angle to focus more on the girl who appeared to have been following her around for a while now, Octavia observes her more carefully. She can’t make out her face clearly at this much of a distance, but she can tell that the girl has tanned skin, and dark hair that she’s tied up in a tight ponytail. Oh, and also, there’s something wrong with her leg. Whenever she turns, or twists her body, the movement is always deliberate, slow.

And she moves a lot. Her antics make Octavia laugh, with the fidgety style of standing she has, the way she keeps sneaking glances at her, the numerous things she pretends to pick up at the shops she is at, just to look out of the corner of her eye, the various ways she tries to creep out of direct view by hiding behind the stalls, she might possibly be the most inept spy she’s ever seen in her life.

Not that she’s seen a lot, she thinks bitterly to herself, what with being raised underground and all.

She shakes herself out of the dark gloom that threatens to spread, and focuses on the mirror again, just in time to see the girl being dragged away by a flash of blond hair, that, taking into account the height and the clothes the other girl was wearing, could only be Princess Griffin. She puts the mirror down finally, and then notices the sudden, insistent ache in her hands at the movement. Forming her hand into a fist, and straightening it repeatedly, she decides to run before the crazy spy comes back. Inept or not, it’s not safe to just wait around for someone who, as ridiculous as she seems, might be an Ice Nation scout or something. Shuddering at the thought, she makes her escape, heading towards the river.

Octavia’s always had an attachment to animals. Maybe, it’s because she didn’t really see a lot of wildlife where she lived, except for the occasional glimpses of the dog, Atom that Bellamy brought along on his trips to cheer her up. Maybe, it’s because they are a link to the great wild beyond, a place she was deprived of for the first fifteen years of her life. Whatever it is, she stills when she catches sight of a squirrel examining her with interest from a distance.

Slowly, very slowly, she reaches out a hand, while the small animal watches on with interest. It seems as though it’s just decided to come closer, when there is loud noise of leaves crashing, and branches meeting with a huge CREAK sound, and her follower comes falling through. She doesn’t just fall; she makes a whole circus out of it. Twisting on her weak leg, hands flailing like a windmill, she goes down, and in the process drives the squirrel away.

“You couldn’t have followed me a little more quietly,” she says, a tad bit irritated.

“I…………sorry?” the girl replies.

The girl may be an idiot, but she’s certainly a beautiful one at that. Dark haired, golden skinned, and with brown eyes that reassure her that there is no way she could be an Ice Nation spy. They are warm, kind and don’t look like they’ve ever encountered one unkind thought in her life. Mischief, on the other hand……..mischief twinkles in those eyes, like it is second nature to her. She talks fast, with a lot of hand gestures, and blushes a lot when their eyes meet. Octavia figures out that the girl has a crush on her within five minutes of their conversation, and it amuses her, though she doesn’t let it show.

Somewhere in the middle of when they are talking, Bellamy comes to mind, and she realizes that she hasn’t checked in with him in almost an hour. She thinks of how worried he gets when he hasn’t seen her, how he panics, and she makes a sudden movement.

“I………….I’m late.”

“Hi Late, I’m Raven,” the girl (Raven, she corrects herself, Raven is her name, and it suits her too. Makes her think of the wide blue skies, and freedom) replies and she cannot stop the smile that steals over her lips at the absolutely horrible joke. She keeps taking slow steps towards the main road while Raven is talking, and turns around when she is asked for her name.

She doesn’t know why, but at that moment, ignoring everything Bellamy has ever told her about Strangers, the Sky people, and spies, she tells her name. Something tells her to trust this strange girl, and without questioning it a lot, she just does.

It feels strange. Strange, yet freeing.

Bellamy is understandably angry when she gets back. It was a rather rash thing she did, and he makes sure to tell her exactly why, for what feels like the thousandth time (because she could have gotten kidnapped, attacked, or killed. Or she could have gotten a bruise, or ripped a tear in her dress, or lost a hair or two……she isn’t really sure what Bellamy considers Danger when it comes to her. Overprotective is his second name). She listens to it for the most part, though, without a lot of fussing and sighing, because it’s Bellamy. Her big brother, who has raised her with the fierce love of a mother, and the strength of a father. She knows he would die for her. That she is lucky to have him. There is nothing she would do without his absolute blessing. Nothing.

**CLARKE**

Everything is just wrong with the world today.

Maybe that is a good explanation for why things have been such a disaster since the morning. Why she has done nothing right. Why she keeps falling over, and bumbling in front of Lexa all the time. Lexa, of all people! She used to be the weird kid back in the old days, and Clarke used to walk around lording over all of them. What’s happened to her?

Lexa’s happened, a quiet voice in her head answers. Lexa’s come back, and she’s all changed now. She’s become all tall, and gorgeous, and calm and confident, and you find her, dare I say it….

Don’t you dare, she threatens.

Attractive, the voice continues, ignoring her.

She forcibly shuts it down, because it couldn’t be more wrong. Not the part about Lexa’s looks (because God knows she’s still having trouble catching her breath, Lexa’s beauty having surprised it out of her), just the part about her finding the Commander attractive. Because that would imply something along the lines of romantic territory, and that is not something she is willing to get into.

“You look like you’re up to great thought,” Raven says, suddenly popping up and taking a seat beside her.

“Really?”

“Yeah, your face looks all constipated and shit.”

Clarke makes a face, and hits her on the arm “Don’t be an asshole. At least my thinking face is better than whatever you looked like when you were out stalking that chick at the market. All dreamy, like you were tripping or something.”

“Girl,” Raven says, absently.

“Huh?”

“Girl, not chick.”

Clarke takes her time turning to her friend (to create a better dramatic effect), and when she finally does, Raven is fidgeting with the straps of her mechanical leg, like she already knows she’s said too much.

“Is there a particular reason I’m not allowed to call this girl chick?”

“I don’t know,” Raven replies, looking everywhere but at Clarke “Just, chick seems a little disrespectful, doesn’t it?”

“Never seemed disrespectful before,” she replies. Her friend cringes under her intense scrutiny.

“Whatever, dude. Call her whatever you want. Doesn’t matter.”

Clarke smiles to herself at the thought of her friend being all weird, and chivalrous, and all for a girl she’s met maybe an hour before. Matters of the heart, alright.

She keeps a hand on Raven’s shoulder “Fine, I won’t call her chick. How does Lady sound? Or Your Majesty?”

“Ha ha,” the mechanic says, but she seems placated “Real funny.”

“So will you tell me about this girl you met?”

Raven smiles, a smile Clarke has never seen on her before “Okay, so her name is Octavia, and…….”

                                                                                                      ****************

She’s starting to think she does this to herself. She can blame a lot on the situation, because that is not in her control, but when one asks her how she managed to find herself in them, the answer is invariably something stupid she’d done. Like that time, she’d decided to go fishing with Raven, with some contraption that the mechanic had built that morning, and that had resulted in her nearly getting strangled to death when the fishing rod’s wire went haywire and wound itself around her neck. After Raven had got her out of that deathtrap and made sure she was fine, she’d laughed at Clarke for nearly ten minutes, because, quote “The way you were flailing around was so hilarious, even the fish was laughing. Talk of death by fishing”. In that case she could blame all the events on one not very thought out decision of trusting one of Raven’s half-hazard inventions to function properly. Now, she isn’t sure where she’d committed the ultimate stupidity that has resulted in her being stuck at a most awkward angle on top of a tree. A very tall tree.

(Why did she get out of bed this morning? Why?)

Was it when she left Raven to get snacks? Or when she saw her mother, Jaha and Kane whispering to each other and wondered what they were up to? Or was it when she heard one of them say ‘Lexa’ and couldn’t resist the urge to follow them to hear what they were saying her name for?

It had to be one of these three actions, because after that, she abandoned her earlier mission in quest of food to sneak after the three chancellors. What a chase they led her into! Full of perils and dangerous temptations (or, if she’s being honest, Lexa’s advisor Titus, and the snack table), causing her to hide through the market shops, climb the roofs of unknown houses and risk getting caught by (oh, the horror!) her mother, who would have probably told her to go mingle with people and be all princessy. And all she heard was brief snippets of conversations about the food, trade, harvest and just when she heard Lexa’s name again, all three of them disappeared into some hut. So Clarke decided to climb the nearest tree which had an overhanging branch, and in the process, banged her leg up so badly, she was stuck there even after the three chancellors exited the hut after their conversation (which, by the way, Clarke couldn’t even hear a word of, so fat lot of good it did).

Up on the tree, Clarke decides that today just isn’t her day. She’ll just have to wait for Raven to come along, and get her out of here. And hopefully not have to interact with anyone else. At least, that is the plan. This day has been pretty terrible.

Then the one thing that could actually make this terrible day even more terrible occurs.

“Clarke? What are you doing up there?”

**LEXA**

Even when Clarke doesn’t mean to, she always makes Lexa smile.

“Just, you know,” she says, trying to straighten up “You know, taking in the natural sights.”

“And you couldn’t do it near the riverside, where people expressly go for that purpose?”

“Ah, but you see, because there are so many people there to take in the nature, it reduces the natural elements and increases the man-made ones. So, really, there is no point,” Clarke counters her, confidently.

(That confidence she has, God. Lexa believes Clarke could talk her body out of falling ill if she put her mind to it. Could probably convince fish to take a walk in the fresh air if she so wanted.)

But Lexa see the awkward way she is sitting on the branch, sees the occasional discomfort that passes over her face every time she moves her leg, and surmises that Clarke is probably stuck there. So, she decides to have a little bit of fun. She puts her feet on the trunk, tries to find a small indentation for a foothold, and starts making her way up.

“Um, Lexa?” Clarke asks her, alarmed “What are you doing?”

“Why, Clarke, taking in the natural sights,” she replies, finally making it to the branch her old friend is sitting on, and sits down beside her, all without breaking a sweat. Then, something occurs to her, and there is suddenly a cold feeling at the bottom of her stomach “Unless………you don’t want me here. In which case, I could climb back down. And, leave you alone.”

“What? No!” Clarke sounds genuinely shocked, and puts her hand on Lexa’s forearm to stop her, not that she could move, not with the shockwaves travelling up her arm, and originating from the point Clarke’s skin touches hers “Of course I don’t want you to go. Don’t be an idiot.”

“Calling the _Heda_ of the twelve clans an idiot?” she raises an eyebrow “There are people who would have your head off for that.”

“There are people who don’t know the real _Heda,_ then, and how much of a _branwada_ she can be.”

“Nobody really knows the real _Heda,_ Clarke,” Lexa tells her, a little melancholy “Not even you. Things have…….changed.”

Clarke looks at her for a long while, her clear blue eyes cutting through Lexa “That’s true. Tell me about her, then.”

Lexa can tell you about the moments that changed her life. The day she met Clarke for the first time, when the girl challenged her to steal a loaf of sweet bread from the baker’s stall so that she and Bellamy could eat it. When she fell down on the street, in front of the current _Heda’s_ soldiers, and her black blood was discovered. When she was dragged, kicking and screaming from her mother, and unceremoniously told to learn to fight (that was the day she saw tears in her _nomon’s_ eyes for the first time. That was the day she realized that being hailed as a future hero doesn’t really matter to a mother, not when she doesn’t know if her child is safe or not, if she will even live to see the next morning). Her Ascension Day. The day she lit fire to her _nontu_ ’s funeral pyre, and knew that the man who used to play with her, who used to show her the stars in the night sky was now one of them, burning bright, and out of reach forever.

The five words Clarke says seem so simple yet they make her feel strange. They reach somewhere inside of her, rip through the _Heda_ part of her, and bring Lexa to the surface. All these years she has been away, fighting and training, there has never been anyone who has just asked how she is. Never been someone who has bothered to. It’s just been ‘duty’, and ‘honor’. These words are a surprise. They seem like a long forgotten luxury.

“What do I tell?” she asks, bewildered.

“Everything.”

So she tries. Tells Clarke of the good days and the bad. The blood and self-loathing. The battles, the fields of blood. The first time she killed a man, how she threw up and couldn’t sleep for a whole week afterwards. She also tells her of the different cities she has been to, the people there. The wonderful things she’s tasted, seen, smelled and felt. Her life would make a strange book, and tries to do a good job of chronicling all the events that have taken place in it. By the end of it, she’s feeling tired of talking, yet strangely invigorated inside, as though getting it all off her chest has re-energized her. She takes in her surroundings then, and sees how dark it has become.

“It’s nearly night time.”

“And you couldn’t even enjoy the nature,” Clarke smiles mischievously, blue eyes glittering in the dark.

“Truly a pity,” she deadpans “We should get going.”

Clarke makes a show of stretching a bit “Yes, that’s………go on ahead, Lexa. I’ll be down shortly.”

She just stares. Clarke shifts a little under her gaze “What?”

“What do you take me for, Clarke? I know you are stuck.”

“Stuck? Who’s stuck? I’m just……..okay, I’m stuck.”

Lexa just smiles. It feels nice.

“Lexa?”

“Yes?”

“Stop smiling, and help me down.”

 


End file.
